Mollywobbles
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: For the Colours Challenge. Molly and Arthur. Random moments. Review! :COMPLETE:
1. White: Of Churches, Blankets, and Doves

A/N: Finally starting to work on my Colors Challenge!

Hmm…I think I'll dedicate this to Pinky Acid Mannequin. Thanks for setting up the challenge, Pinky! XD

Molly's POV

Church

White

I'd never gone to Church. Not really. Actually, I'd gone only once, on Easter.

Until I met Arthur.

"Church? Yes, every Sunday," he'd told me with a smile.

Suddenly, Church seemed deathly important. I went every Sunday, like him. I made a point of quoting the Bible on certain days, but mostly whenever I saw him.

What had he changed in me?

All I knew was when I'd first glimpsed his red locks, a blinding white light seemed to take over my mind. I saw—well, this is really juvenile, but—I saw a white, long wedding dress. I saw a white dove, and I saw a white blanket covering a little boy, the spitting image of Gideon, with Arthur's orangey red hair. Then, as if I was seeing double, I imagined another one, except more Fabian-like.

Which is ridiculous. After all, how could that ever happen? He was one year older than I was, and I wasn't quite sure Mother would approve. We didn't care about blood traitors and such rubbish, but Arthur was…different, and Mother might not quite like him.

Well, actually, she'd think him mad. He was obsessed with Muggle Artifacts and such things. I don't know why, but I thought it quite attractive; Mother certainly wouldn't.

So really, why was I blatantly going against Mother's wishes?

I never got hooked on Church. I grew tired of quoting the Bible, and after the story of Jove, which scared me a bit, I stopped reading it.

"Arthur," I said once, after we'd begun dating in fourth year, "I have a confession to make."

"What is that, Mollywobbles?"

I blushed at the nickname in public, but continued on. "I think Church is dead boring."

"Oh really?" he asked, amused.

"Yes. And I think the Bible a bit scary."

He grinned quite openly now.

"And I faked liking it and knowing the Bible back and forth so that you'd like me. Are you angry?"

"Oh, Molly!" he smiled and grabbed my hand. Then he pulled me through a tapestry to a bit of a secret room. "Molly, I don't care about your religion! I could care less if you devoted your life to Satan! All I want you to do is like me for who _I _am, just like I like you for who _you_ are."

"I will, Arthur! I just—it was so important to you."

"Mollywobbles, I never want you to be someone you aren't. Really."

"Do you swear, Arthur?"

"I do, Molly, I do."

"Then—well, then I love you," I said it quickly, boldly. That's why I was in Gryffindor.

He leaned down and kissed me. "I love you, too, Molly."

I was pretty sure he would swear if I asked him to.

* * *

"Look, Arthur! Look at my dress!" I said, spinning around. 

It was white, and just as I'd imagined it.

"Beautiful!" he said.

"Now then, Arthur. Let's elope, shall we?"

We did.

White dress.

White Church.

White.

* * *

"Wook, Mommy, a dove!" 

"Ooh, Billie, that _is_ a pretty dove, isn't it. And what color is it?"

"White!"

"Yes, Billie, white."

White.

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy! Mommy's got _two!_" said eight-year-old Bill. 

"Really, Billie?" Arthur sped back into my room as another boy got laid in my arms.

I was home in my bed, and one little boy, the spitting image of Gideon, was born April 1st. Then another came, the spitting image of Fabian.

"What are their names, Mommy?" asked little Charlie, who was five at the time.

"Well, Arthur?" I asked. It was his turn.

"This one is George," he said, holding up little Gideon.

"And—and Fred. This is Fred," I added.

"I get the next boy," Arthur whispered, and I laughed.

"Don't be so sure!"

"There hasn't been a girl born to the Weasley's in—"

"Not now, Arthur, please."

I laid back as Arthur wrapped George in a white blanket.

He then wrapped Fred accordingly.

I held my arms out for the two of them.

Their blankets covered half of their faces, but I didn't mind. I fell asleep holding those little bundles of angel white.

White.

A/N: Didn't turn out like I wanted it, but what does everyone think? Sorry the elopement part was rather ridiculous!

Review please!


	2. Yellow: Of Seekers, Quidditch and Snitch

**Snitch**

**Yellow**

Charlie was a talented Seeker, I'm sure.

I even saw his games once in awhile.

But I really do hate that Snitch.

I have a reason.

* * *

Arthur and I were watching the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match. 

It was sixth year, I believe.

He was sitting there, just holding my hand, when I screamed.

The bright yellow-ish gold (well, I suppose it's called the Golden Snitch, but I always thought it a vibrant shade of yellow) was hovering _right in my face_.

And behind it was the Hufflepuff Seeker. Clad in yellow.

Flying toward the Snitch.

At full speed.

You don't need to know the rest.

* * *

Ginny's favorite Muggle shirt was bright yellow, with monkeys and bananas all over it. 

I hated that shirt.

Need I remind you of the incident?

* * *

The Hufflepuff Seeker (with the Snitch in hand) and I were rushed to the hospital wing. 

Hufflepuff had one, and the bedcovers were bright yellow.

It was an old tradition that died out presently, when Bill got to school, but I loved it.

Until then.

I took one look at the bedcovers and gave up my lunch.

The entire day took its toll on me; the Seeker Incident was the cherry on top.

Needless to say, yellow is not my favorite color.

* * *

I was always afraid one of the children would end up in Hufflepuff, and I'd have to have something yellow as a reminder to that awful day. 

Yellow.

Ugh.

My least favorite color.

A/N: I hate the color yellow, though I don't have as good a reason!

Sorry it's dreadfully short; this was more of a drabble!


	3. Blue: Of Pockets, Umbrellas and Bells

A/N: I used lots of prompts for this one, I hope that's okay, Pinky!

They just seemed to fit.

Enjoy this bit of Arthur/Molly fluff! xD

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! EVEN THE PROMPT!

**Blue Polka-Dot Umbrella**

**Shirt**

**Bells**

**Blue**

I remember lots of things about Arthur's courting me.

The things that stand out most are: The lovely blue shirt he wore on our first date, that adorable Blue polka-dot umbrella under which we got engaged, and most of all, those original and enchanting blue bells, with the sound ringing clear and true as I said, "I do."

* * *

That blue, wonderful shirt that he has sometimes caught me kissing tenderly, flooded with memories, is something we shall treasure forever. It is a sky-blue polo, with a cute little pocket where Arthur always put notes, pens, whatever. I loved searching through that little pocket. 

Our first date was something of a catastrophe; but a catastrophe that started Heaven's descent to Earth, as far as I was concerned.

I remember everything clearly: how he combed back his hair, the number of buttons on my jacket, and the name of our server. (His hair was slicked with gel, I had five buttons on my jacket, and our waiter was called George.)

"Molly—would you like to go to a Muggle restaurant with me?"

"I'd love to, Arthur!" I shouted with glee, ignoring the looks we got. We were only fourteen at the time, and he had no money, but we made do. I, after all, _did_ have money, and I refused to let him pay for all of it.

We went just a week later, right before Christmas break. He wore that shirt, and I told him I adored it—my way of telling him I'd like to see him wear it again, perhaps on our next date.

He and I made easy conversation. We spoke of random things; Quidditch, our families, Hogwarts, teachers, whatever came to mind. I continued commenting on that fantastic shirt, and a relationship was born.

"My parents would _love_ that shirt," I told him, smiling.

"Well, could I meet them? I'll wear this shirt."

"It depends," I shot back with a grin, "why you'd meet them."

"I was thinking I'd meet them because we were getting a bit serious," he said, bluntly, not blushing at all.

I was attracted to that; immensely attracted. And this conversation seemed to be working out well for me. "Hmm…well, would we get serious? First we'd have to get _together_."

"That's true. Molly, do you want to get together, and eventually get serious?"

"I like the idea, to tell the truth," I said calmly, though inside I was screaming with joy.

"Well then, shall I see you again, in the Astronomy Tower, tomorrow night?"

"Is that a date?"

"It is if you say yes."

"I think we should make it official. So, yes."

"Great!" he said happily, no longer choosing his words so carefully.

And then, Arthur-and-Molly, the inseparable couple, was born.

* * *

The blue polka-dot umbrella is practically _centuries_ old. 

I love it that way.

Arthur got it from his dad, who got it from Arthur's great-uncle.

"Bilius didn't want it," he told me, when asked.

When asked what of his other brother, he never responded, until—

"My other brother was never interested in artifacts of any kind," he finally admitted.

So anyway, that day under the umbrella, (quite like the chapter from Little Women, the Muggle book popular for quite awhile, if I remember correctly.) the day after seventh year got out, he asked me that question.

"Will you marry me, Molly Prewett?"

I was staggered by the question. It seemed very soon to rush into a marriage, but I was more than ready. We'd been together for three years.

"I do believe I will, Arthur Weasley," I responded, and from that moment, we wouldn't leave each others' sides.

I loved that little umbrella, and that day when Arthur sacrificed his health (for the moment, anyway) for me, as he held the little thing completely over me. I remember the rain running off his hair, and how he was wearing the blue shirt. And I smile, just loosing myself in the old days…

* * *

I choose blue for the color of my bridesmaid's dress. No one knew why but Arthur and I, and he loved the idea. I had one bridesmaid, for we eloped. She was my best friend from school, Allison Thompson, and I said I wouldn't marry if she wasn't there. She was the only member of the wedding, besides Arthur and me. 

I walked down the aisle towards Arthur, and as I did, I heard the bells. They were a tinkling, making very little sound, but it was extremely comforting. I remember thinking, "How can I do this? How can I elope, and promise myself forever to Arthur Weasley?"

But when I heard those bells, I knew. We were meant to be, and as Fate would have it, it was partly thanks to those little blue bells.

And to this day, I remember those bells, those original, quiet bells, and I tear up.

I married to the tune of bells.

Wedding Bells, as the saying goes.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the fluffy A/M! It was SO easy and fun to write, the words were easy. I love their relationship. I sorta copied the umbrella idea from Little Women, but I reread that chapter…okay, okay, I'm guilty. I'm embellishing on that lovely little disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE UMBRELLA IDEA! 

So please, don't sue me!

Review please, it'll make me smile and want to hug you! Even if you just put, 'good,' or 'AW!' I'll still love you!! REVIEW!


	4. Green: Of Mistletoe, Babies, and Age

A/N: Sorry for not updating in 300 years! (About…a rough estimate)

But this will be long to make up for it! I have six to go, by the way!

Disclaimer: NOTHING is mine. Only the sentences come from MY brain, but I suppose that I owe my brain to my parents for helping construct it…oh well, anyway, ONWARD!

* * *

**Mistletoe**

**Green**

Christmas, the month after Billie was born, I felt so _old._ Arthur and I had to get ready for the company that was coming over—his brother, Bilius, and Auntie Muriel, and Gideon and Fabian—and take care of our not-yet-one-moth-old baby. We had no time for ourselves. I decorated, cooked, cleaned, and slaved. I almost screamed at my poor Bill, but I caught myself.

It seemed that my marriage was strained as well. We'd been married for about four years, but we'd never been so busy. We went our separate ways during the day, me talking care of Billie and getting ready for the company, Arthur with his Muggle artifacts and Ministry work.

Nevertheless, at night, I would snuggle up close to him and whisper in his ear, "I love you, Arthur Weasley."

"I love you, Molly Prewett Weasley."

And I'd kiss him and drop off to sleep. One morning I woke up to find we had fallen asleep holding hands.

* * *

On Christmas day, Auntie Muriel arrived first. "Molly, you really should do something about those skinny wrists of yours. Everything else is quite _plump, _and then you have those wrists…" She clicked her tongue at me, and I reddened. "But perfectly lovely decorations, dear. Here, hang this up. Mistletoe—I do love catching people under these!" She cackled a bit, as is her way. 

"Muriel! Welcome to our home. This is William, and he's not yet a month old."

She shook her head and told us that Bill had a 'perfectly _horrendous_ shaped mouth, but an altogether becoming nose.'

I'm sure she would have moved on to Arthur, but just then my brothers came in, without ringing the Muggle bell.

"Mollikins!" shouted Gideon.

Fabian hugged me, and I grinned. Suddenly, I felt young again, with my rambunctious brothers.

"Gid, Fabe," Arthur said, shaking their hands respectively.

"Artie…" Gideon regarded him with twinkling eyes and a stern mouth.

"How have you been treating Mollikins, then, little brother?" asked Fabian.

"Oh, perfectly _awful_, I'm sure," Gideon cut in.

They began making their usual cracks and I rolled my eyes with a groan. "For Merlin's sake, you two, stop making fun of my husband!" I joked, leaning against Arthur, who laughed and supported me, as I knew he would.

"Well, it is in their nature. With two oddballs like those, it's a wonder you aren't mental, Molly dear," Arthur smiled.

"For Merlin's sake, Arthur, stop making fun of our sister," shouted Gideon and Fabian together, pretending to be livid.

Auntie Muriel pursed her lips together and shook her head.

"Shall we go on to the living room?" asked Arthur, who still held our baby.

"And who is that little Weasley baby?" cooed Gideon once we had settled in, as he was apt to get more sentimental than Fabian.

"This is William Septimus Weasley. He's twenty-six days old."

"Oh, Moll, Arthur, he's beautiful," Fabian said.

"Ca—should—would you let me hold him?" breathed Gideon, his eyes wide.

"Of course," Arthur said, and handed our baby to my irresponsible brother. I breathed in sharply, but Arthur sent me a look that said, 'This is _Gid_ we're talking about, Mollywobbles.'

I relaxed and smiled as I watched my brothers cradle our child. Minutes elapsed in silence before Auntie Muriel cut in with a stern, "You know Fabian, or Gideon, whichever one is holding the infant now—you really should do something about that _peculiar_ hairstyle."

"Oh, Muriel, come off it," Fabian—whom she was addressing—joked. "You know the woman like men with peculiar hairstyles that their aunt-in-laws hate."

She wrinkled her nose expertly and was about to reply when the bell rang.

"Why do you have such a stupid Muggle contraption, Artie?" I heard Gideon ask insensitively as he trotted after Arthur to get the door.

I rolled my eyes. "So, Fabian, how's work?"

"Dangerous," was all Fabian said, picking at a stitch in the blanket he'd draped over himself. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about work.

"I see. Oh, and have a new girlfriend yet?" I teased.

He wrinkled his nose and laughed. "Not quite, Molly dear."

I laughed to, and by then his twin, my husband, and his brother appeared in the room.

"Oh, hello, Bilius, lovely to see you," I said politely, standing up and hugging him.

The truth is, I didn't much care for him—he was so _disruptive_. But then again, rather like Gideon and Fabian, so maybe I was just prejudiced.

"Molly, love! Charmed, charmed, I'm sure!" he shouted loudly. His breath smelled faintly of Firewhisky, but I was rather sure he wasn't drunk.

"Auntie Muriel! My, my, you are looking spi-ffy!" he said, moving on around the room.

"Hey, Bilius," Fabian began—

"Fabe, my boy! Perfectly spectacular to see you!"

"Calm down a bit, Bilius," Arthur said, rocking Bill back and forth, "We've got a baby here."

"And _who_ is this _lovely_ edition to your blooming family, Arthur?"

"William Septimus Weasley."

"Septimus, eh?" Bilius looked disgruntled for a moment, then—"How perfectly scrumptious!" as though Bill were a new type of Bertie Bot's Every Flavored Beans.

Fabian sighed and sat back because Bilius was rather ignoring him, with Gideon laughing at his tragic expression.

"Dinner then, yes?" I asked, to quench the sudden silence.

"Oh, quite, quite!" screamed Bilius, apparently forgetting about Bill.

"For Merlin's sake…" muttered Fabian, who ran up to him and shouted loudly, "QUITE!"

"Oh, yes, yes, dear Gideon!"

"I'm Fabian, sir," my brother said seriously.

"Really? No, no, I think you're Gideon. Now, Gideon, what were you saying in the hall about Fabian? His new lady friend or whatnot?"

Fabian didn't miss a beat. "Oh, yes. Actually, I was talking of my _own_ lady friend, but Fabian stole her away because he is _so_ dreadfully handsome."

He and Bilius progressed into the kitchen, as a laughing Gideon ran after, shouting, "No, no, I'm not _nearly_ as handsome as dear, sweet Gideon!"

Auntie Muriel shook her head and made her careful way to the kitchen, muttering under her breath about how, "youngsters these days never help women _my age!_"

I laughed, and then looked at Arthur. He was looking upward, with a blush creeping to his face.

I looked up too, and lo and behold, mistletoe hung there invitingly.

"Well, Arthur, we must obey, correct?"

"With pleasure," he said, and dipped me.

* * *

A/N: Random, really…did you like it? Oh, by the way, I decided since Uncle Bilius is 'the life and soul of every party' that he would be loud and annoying to Molly…if anyone knows more about him and his personality, I'd love some feedback. REVIEW! 


	5. Orange: Of Letters, Tears, and Snowmen

A/N: Had to write this before Pink (which is almost done). Not so light-hearted—sorry! Thanks again to the lovely Pinky Green, who established the challenge, and cuz she's awesome!

Disclaimer: NOTHING.

* * *

**Orange **

**Darkness**

**Pomegranate-Flavored Sweets **

**Sun**

The day the news came, I wasn't feeling well as it was. I had, after all, given birth to _another_ boy very recently. The little one was hard to take care of, but Arthur was there—always there.

Bill was—seven or eight, I think, at the time. Percy was still a baby, and you can fill in the blanks yourself.

We were eating dinner, and there were bags under Arthur's eyes. He was working double-time at the Ministry because of You-Know-Who's rising power, and if he took over—well, that couldn't happen.

Billie was explaining to Charlie something Arthur had recently told him about Hogwarts, and I smiled to see Charlie's eyes light up at the mention of Quidditch and other such things.

The smile was wiped clean off my face not three seconds later.

An owl tapped at our window, and quite insistently, too. I stood up and opened the window, took the letter, handed the owl some treat or another, and scanned it's contents.

Arthur must have seen my face crumple and realized the inevitable.

* * *

When I came to, Arthur was standing over me with a wet washcloth and Percy was wailing. I was on the couch, I noticed. "The letter, Arthur—" I said, my voice choked with tears, but I couldn't go on. 

"I know," he said grimly. He waved a piece of paper in his hand. "I read it. I—oh, Molly…"

I sat up and called for Billie, Charlie, and Percy.

"My poor, poor boys…I love you three…if anything ever happened to you…"

As I began to sob and clutch at my sons, Arthur sat down next to me. Charlie didn't know what was going on, and Bill was hugging me and whispering that he was sorry, when my husband took them.

"Bill, Charlie, I need you to listen to me. This is grown-up stuff, but I'm going to tell you two, alright?"

He looked at me, and I nodded through my racking sobs as I hugged Percy tightly. They needed to know—especially Bill.

"Remember Uncle Gid and Uncle Fabe?" he asked gently. My eyes filled with fresh tears when I recalled how my brothers had cooed over Billie when he was still so young.

"Yep," said Bill with a grin—they'd been over a lot during his earlier years, and he'd come to regard them as male fairy- godmothers of some sort. Charlie just nodded, staring, preoccupied, at me.

"Well, there's a bad man, named…" he winced and shook his head. "He doesn't have a name, okay?"

"How can he not have a name?" asked Bill.

"Shh," Charlie said, turning to look at his father's face.

"I—he—they—" Arthur took a deep breath. "Gideon and Fabian were on a mission to get rid of the bad man. They were battling some of the bad man's friends, who want him to take over the world. That's bad, because the Bad Man will be mean to all of the Muggles."

"No!" said Billie, who'd recently met a little Muggle girl.

"Gid and Fabe were trying to stop that. Well, they were fighting, and…and…well, one of the bad man's friends shot a bad curse at Gid and Fabe, and they…they went away."

"To where?" Charlie pressed.

"Will we see 'em soon?" asked Billie nervously. I think he already kind of guessed.

"No, no. You c-can't see th-them again, b-boys. Uncle G-Gideon and U-Uncle F-Fabian are gone forever. They w-went o-on." Arthur's voice was shaking. So were his shoulders. He was almost crying.

"They're dead?" whispered Bill, looking horrified.

"What? What does that mean?"

"They aren't coming back _ever ever ever!_" Bill explained. "Never, Mummy?" he turned to me as if I could say that they _would_ come back—that it was all up to me.

I shook my head and cried harder. "N-No, B-Bill. Th-They're n-never c-coming b-back."

And that thought broke me up. I couldn't believe it—didn't want to believe it. But I had just told the truth to my seven-year-old son. And that meant they were not "coming back _ever ever ever!_" as Bill put it so passionately.

"They're dead…" Charlie repeated, trying the words on for size. And then he began to cry—sob. I grabbed him and hugged him. "I miss them!" he sobbed into my shirt. "I want them back _now!_"

"I'm sorry, Charlie—they can't come back."

Bill sat there, looking at the floor with a troubled expression. "But Daddy," he asked finally, "who'll take me an' Charlie out for ice cream? Who'll go and visit Grandmum with us? Who'll have the funny stories to tell?" And he looked so confused that it broke my heart still further.

"I—I don't know, Bill." Arthur put his head in his hands, and now I knew he _was_ crying.

"Daddy," asked Bill presently, "is this my fault?"

Arthur looked up so fast, I barely even saw the change. "_No_," he said forcefully, harshly. "_No, no, no!_ Do _not_ ever think that, or say that, Bill! I—you—_no._ Please, Bill—it was no one's fault. It was the bad man. All him, okay? He and his friends did it all, Bill—_not you._ Do you understand me?"

"Yes," said Bill quietly.

So this was darkness.

* * *

Three days later, I was lying in bed late, as I was apt to do after the news. I was crying into my pillow, remember Gideon's eyes when he first met Arthur—protective, unsure. Remembering Fabian's first joke directed at Arthur—remembering the first time they held Bill, remembering the day they came to see me after Charlie was born, remembering me telling them of Hogwarts—remembering everything. 

How could they be gone?

I heard someone come in, but I ignored him. I didn't want to cheer up Charlie or explain to Bill or talk to Arthur or play with Percy. So I continued to cry, facedown, until I'd fallen _back _to sleep.

* * *

My brothers—my brothers! 

How many times had I said 'I love you'?

What was the last thing I'd said to them?

When was our last fight?

How did we hug last?

Who was Fabian's secret girlfriend of the month?

But I didn't know these answers—I couldn't remember them, or I'd never been told, in the case of the girlfriend.

* * *

I finally sat up, my face tear-streaked and blotchy, my hair a tangled mess. I looked on the table next to me. Lying there was a few of my favorite kind of candy—a Muggle hard-candy with a pomegranate flavor. Despite this, though, it was bright orange—the color of Gid and Fabe's hair. I grabbed one and popped it into my mouth, picturing that hair… 

When I went downstairs, I saw a whole path of the candies leading finally to outside. I put on a warmer cloak over my current, thin nightgown and hurried out, still sucking.

"Surprise!" shouted Bill, and then Arthur popped up from behind a snowman with Percy, and so did Bill and Charlie.

I looked around at the three snowmen. Arthur's was rather short and sloppily made. It had those candies sticking out of it, all the way down the sides of its head. A girl—with red hair! On her shirt, carved in was a sloppy 'M'. It was one of the knit sweaters my mother made our family every year, and now I made for my own family. M—Molly. I almost began to cry again—I think I knew what the other two would be.

I turned to the one next to me. It also had the red hair, but also a little bit of a beard—Gideon. He was smiling affectionately at me, and it did rather resemble him. I could picture Bill, the tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, carefully carving it all from snow with a stick. Gid also had a 'G' on his sweater, and his hand was over his heart—the common pose when he was telling a joke. Arthur had obviously done that with magic.

And the last one, Charlie's, was more a lump of snow with pointy orange candies sticking up from his head, just like Fabe's hair. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat when I saw the 'F' carved with a young, boyish hand.

And on the place where I was standing, carved partly by magic (the very end) and partly by my sons, was written in all capital letters, "WE LOVE YOU MUM! GIDEON AND FABIAN DID TOO. THEY WILL ALWAYS BE IN OUR HEARTS AND OUR MEMORIES. RIP, UNCLE GID AND UNCLE FABE!"

I smiled, tears in my eyes, and held out my arms. My four favorite boys rushed towards me, hugging me tightly, crying, laughing, smiling.

And just then, the sun came out.

* * *

A/N: WHOA! Way angstier than I thought. But I kind of liked the unusual change. Back to happy-go-luck for the next chapter! 

Please review!


	6. Pink: Of Girls, Mittens, and Honeydukes

A/N: I'm SO sorry about my lack of updates! This chapter is dedicated to all of you who hung in there! to: **caraez, JUJUChick 16, lalababee, Pinky Green/Madame Pinky, lady clark of books, rentharrypotterfan808, Shade of Grey, and Time Vortex. **Inspiration has finally struck, though! (Sorry about the odd means of getting to Honeydukes, but what can you do?) Read on for (finally) a new chapter!

_(Extra note: I wrote that before I started writing 'Orange' for the record…)

* * *

_

**Pink**

**Mittens**

**Chocolate**

* * *

When Ginevra Molly Weasley was born on August eleventh, nineteen eighty-one, I couldn't believe my eyes. When she was put in my arms, wrapped securely in a pink blanket, I forgot everything. You-Know-Who's's defeat, the loss of my beloved brothers, Fred and George's obnoxious practical jokes… 

A girl had not been born to the Weasley's for many, many generations. Arthur had told me this enough times that I couldn't believe it. I _finally_ had my special little girl. We've had the name picked out for _ages_, and now—imagine, finally getting to use it!

I held her and cradled her and muttered into her bald little head—"I love you, my little girl."

* * *

As she grew, my love did too. She was—and Arthur and I had agreed on this, _really_, not like we did after Percy's birth—our last child. How fitting for the girl be the last. 

But she hated being last. She always wanted to do what the boys were doing. Bill was fifteen when she was four, so the boys were still quite young.

"Mummy, Mummy!" she shouted one day, running in from the cold, her cheeks bright red, her beautiful red locks flying every which way. She brought her pink-mittened hands up to my cheeks and looked at me pleadingly. "Fweddie says Wonnie and I can't pway snowbaww wif dem! I wanna, Mummy! Pwease?"

I could hardly say no—but what if she got hurt? "Only if Billie's on your team, lovely. And the boys _cannot_ throw snowballs at your face, okay? Tell Freddie that if he makes a fuss he's coming _straight _to me. And that goes for everyone, understood?"

The look on her face was priceless. She clapped her hands together excitedly and rushed outside again, shrieking.

Oh, my little girl…

* * *

One day, when Ginny was six, Arthur rushed inside, Bill at his heels. "Honeydukes!" they said together. 

"What about it?" I asked.

"A sale, Mollywobbles!"

Bill was practically jumping up and down, which was unusual for the normally dignified seventeen-year-old, who was home for Christmas break.

"Okay, alright!" I said. "We'll Apparate. Arthur, take Ginny and Ron with Side-Along. Charlie, come on! Aren't you coming? You, the twins and Percy Floo there, will you? Percy, put down that book! Ron, put on a hat. Careful, Arthur, don't hurt them, understood? Bill—stop that, you silly boy, Apparate!" I stopped him from literally skipping around the kitchen. "What's so great about this sale, anyway?"

"Mum! Honeydukes _never_ has sales! It's all about fifty percent off!" said Bill excitedly. Then again, he _had_ always had a soft spot for chocolate.

"Careful with Ginny!" I warned Arthur again, and then I turned on the spot, ignoring his half-concealed rolled eyes.

I almost Splinched myself, I was so nervous. If Ginny got hurt, I'd never speak to Arthur again. It was the first time she'd Apparated anywhere, even with Side-Along. I didn't even know if it was legal!

But there we all were, safe and sound. We walked quickly to Honeydukes, and I noticed Bill had been right. The sales were amazing, and so we bought quite a bit.

"Here," I said harshly, handing the man the money. He smiled superficially (I _hate_ those employees!) and thanked us with an oily voice. The twins immediately began impersonating him right outside the shop.

"Chocolate!" Ginny shrieked excitedly.

"Yep, Gin-Gin. Here's a piece," and Bill ripped a small portion from the rather large bar the twins had exulted over. It was bright pink with blue speckles, and Ginny ate it with relish that I loved.

"Now then. Let's go home and have a party, shall we?" joked Fred, and we all somehow made it there and did just that.


	7. Black: Of Shoes, Missing, and Mourning

A/N: Soo sorry about not updating! -bangs head against wall-

Also, I don't know how gramophones work, so I guessed!

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN.

* * *

**Black**

**Shoes**

**Statue of a Peacock**

**Gramophone**

It was our anniversary.

Arthur and I had been married fifteen long, hard, glorious years.

"Mum, we're having an anniversary party for you," Bill told me. He was only twelve at the time, but he'd planned everything—it comes from being eldest of seven.

"Ginny's only two! I can't—"

"Quiet, Mum," and he was off to plan with Charlie.

"Arthur," I said a moment later, as I stepped into the kitchen and found my husband there, "Bill insists we are having an anniversary party."

"Thank Merlin. I wanted one, but I was sure you wouldn't like the idea after everything."

"Arthur!" I scolded. He laughed.

Then he put down his cup—Merlin knows _what _he was drinking, most likely a Muggle beverage—and stood. He grabbed me around the waist and spun me around. Then he kissed me. I laughed. "We're still young, Mollywobbles!"

"Therefore I'll wear my black sparkly dress, Arthur Weasley!" I said into his ear. He laughed and waggled his eyebrows.

"You look scrumptious in that dress, my dear," he told me. "And _I_ shall wear my black shoes—the shiny ones. We will have a black shiny-and-sparkly theme, and invite the whole world! Xeno Lovegood and his wife Maria and daughter Luna, my crazy brother Bilius, our coworkers, Amos Diggory and company, I could go on!"

"We have that many friends?" I joked.

"Naturally," he said jovially. "After all, my dearest, you are drop-dead gorgeous." I swatted him on the chest and he kissed me again.

It's times like these when I _do_ feel young.

* * *

Our party was on the exact date of our marriage: June twenty-sixth. It was a beautiful night, and Bill, Charlie, and some adults—no one told us who they were—had planned the party outside. 

"Look, Mum!" Charlie ran inside the house, where Arthur and I were being held hostage until the party started, Bill at his heels.

"Hmm?" I asked, looking up from my knitting.

Charlie held a moderately sized ice statue. It was—and this is unbelievable—of a _peacock_. I laughed aloud.

"That's beautiful, dear," Arthur said with a grin.

"Do _you _like it, Mummy?" asked Bill.

"I love it, Billie. Thank you, both of you!" And I hugged them tightly.

"Mr. L—I mean, The Adult made it with magic! That's why I can carry it. It's really light!"

Arthur and I looked at each other. A new clue! "Thanks for showing it to us, boys," said Arthur.

I nodded and smiled at the two of them, and they rushed back outside, intoxicated with their success.

I got up from the rocking chair I was sitting in and went to Arthur. I hugged him.

"I love you, my lovely Mollywobbles," he told me. I looked at him for a long time, remembering the first time he'd said that.

"I love you two, Arthur. I love you _so_ much."

* * *

It was a cold, snowy winter's night. We sat in Muriel's hallway, only five of us (Ron—but I was in denial that he was gone, Percy—I can't go on, Charlie--in Romania, and Bill--at Shell Cottage, though Merlin only knows why he stayed), huddled together. Arthur pulled out a shiny black gramophone. I gasped. It was such an old thing! 

"Where did you get that, Dad?" asked Ginny.

"It's been around," he said with a shrug. "It'll cheer us up. Ginny, you were about—two, I'd guess. This is for Bill…" and he switched it on.

* * *

"_Mum and Dad, we're so happy you got married. After all, the amazing William Arthur Weasley wouldn't be here without you."_

_Laughter. _

"_Charlie, Perce and I wanted to host this party for you because we love you so much, and we appreciate you, even if Perce is too wrapped up in books and Charlie is too rough-and-tumble for you, Mum, and I—well, I'm your little Billie." So Bill._

_Applause. Sound of someone standing. "This is for Mum and Dad also because we love you so much, like Bill said, and, well, I could never give too many hugs or kisses or tell you I loved you too many times." Charlie's most eloquent speech…at ten._

"_Um…yeah. I did write that, Mum, Perce didn't, I swear! Okay, well, Bill helped with the wording, and Percy came up with the general idea, but I so wrote it. Look!" _

_Sound of paper rustling, laughter.

* * *

_Tears overflowed as I hugged my three children tightly. "Oh, Fred, George, Ginny!" I wailed.

It was our anniversary we were hearing. And none of the three of them were with me right now. I sobbed quietly as I listened long to more of it—Percy's speech.

"_Um, Mum, Dad, I did totally half-write Charlie's, you know. Anyway, I really love both of you, 'cause you brought me into this world, and you're the best parents anyone could ask for. _

"_And no matter what, no matter if I fight with you, no matter when I move out, know that I will always think of you. I will always miss you when I'm away, and no matter how many disagreements we have, I'll always love you, and I'll always come back to you. I love you. To Mum and Dad!" Amazing for a seven or eight year old._

_Glasses clinking. Thunderous applause. "WE LOVE YOU MOLLY AND ARTHUR!" is somewhere in there. The noise is deafening.

* * *

_I blinked some more tears from my eyes as Ginny hugged me back tightly. Arthur came and sat next to me, kissing me on the cheek.

"Arthur," I whispered, burying my face in his black shirt, "black is a mourning colour."

"Yes. It is, isn't it? But it wasn't when you wore your sparkly black dress and I wore my shiny black shoes."

"There's a war on now, Arthur. Everything's a mourning colour."


	8. Red: Of Sunflowers, Ladybirds, and Love

_A/N: SOO desperately didn't want to cover the material that's coming in this chapter…but I had to…WAH! I don't know if I got 'love hearts' right. I don't know if those are what they sound like, or not! _

_**NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS SU. (See profile.)**_

_Next chapter is the epilogue, for anyone who cares._

_Disclaimer: I don't own. _

**Red**

**Sunflower**

**Ladybird/Ladybug**

**Love Hearts **

I'm surrounded.

The red envelops me.

I'm choking.

I'm falling.

I'm loosing consciousness.

I'm drowning.

I'm crying.

* * *

Oh my Fred! My beautiful, perfect baby.

My sweet, angel-faced, trouble-making boy.

The other twin sat, staring at the wall, for days. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't sleep. He just stared.

And then came Alicia Spinnet, bearing more tears and a sunflower.

A _sunflower_.

I remembered how the sun had come out again when I lost my brothers. Thanks to Arthur.

And so perhaps Alicia could be George's sun, symbolized by that beautiful, cheerful sunflower.

* * *

No matter what, though, no matter if George got over his twin's death, I never will recover completely.

Everyday, in the morning, I wake up thinking of Fred. 

I have nightmares every night.

I wake up shivering and sweating, and Arthur helps.

"Shh," he'll say in his beautiful, comforting voice. "I'm here now. It's okay. You're okay. We'll all be okay. Just breathe."

And I will. It will work. I will kiss him and smile and wipe my eyes, and he will brush away the last of my tears lovingly.

* * *

I'll bury my face in his shirt and sob my heart out, sometimes.

He'll just hold me. He'll stroke my back and whisper sweet little nothings in my ear.

And in the morning, no matter what, he'll be there, smiling his fool face off, just because I can manage a smile. 

And I love him for it.

* * *

When I stared at the sunflower harder, I noticed a bright red ladybug sitting placidly on a petal, as if she were supposed to be there.

I blinked at her.

"Arthur," I whispered, "what should I do with this ladybird on George's sunflower?"

He looked up from the Daily Prophet.

And then he laughed.

"_What should I do with this ladybird on George's sunflower?"_

I started laughing too. It was a relief to finally laugh again. It had been weeks since the Battle, but neither Arthur nor I had laughed yet.

Thank Merlin for that Alicia Spinnet, eh?

* * *

Two years later, I repeated the thought over and over in my mind.

I stared at George, sobbing my eyes out.

My baby was getting married!

Really, Alicia is the perfect girl for him.

She saved us all from more pain than ever. She saved us from potentially loosing George, too.

Still, it's hard. I've been much more protective of him since Fred—since it happened.

But now, finally, I let my son go.

* * *

Arthur slipped his hand into mine as we walked back up to the house.

I turned and smiled at him. "I love you, Arthur," I said.

He smiled at me. We had to part, then, because of the old fashioned dance that will happen. 

But I felt a piece of paper in my hands and noticed a twinkle in Arthur's eye.

It was red paper hearts connected, with the words, '_I love you' _and _'my brown-eyed girl' _decorating it. He'd made it by magic, that much I knew, (Arthur wasn't particularly _artistic_, if you will) but how he'd come up with the idea I'll never know.

I dried my tears and smiled the biggest smile I could muster.

* * *

"Three years ago, I had to give up Bill. And then, I had to give up George's twin, Fred."

Tears filled my eyes as I began my speech for George and Alicia's reception. George had asked me to be my usual self. Though he pretended he hated when I was so sentimental, I knew he secretly found comfort in that.

I smoothed my bright red dress. I looked at my matching nails. I smiled. And I continued.

"Now, I have to give up George. And next is Percy. And then, who knows? I'll have no one left. And I'll miss them all terribly. 

"But never, ever have I seen a more perfect match for George than Alicia Spinnet—er, Weasley. 

"You were welcomed into the family with that sunflower you brought two weeks after the Battle. The one with the laugh-inducing ladybird on it. Arthur and I hadn't laughed since the Battle, but you and your plant got us to do the unthinkable. And the second I heard George say, 'We've all got to move on,' I knew you were The One.

"And the first time I hugged you, the first time Ron said, 'She's become like a sister to us all,' and the fact that you made that beautiful speech at the funeral helped me realize: You are a Weasley through and through.

"So now I will formally welcome you into the family, Alicia Weasley. We love you. Merlin bless you."

The tears that threatened to come were dampening my face. I wiped them away and nodded at everyone clapping for me. I went and gave Alicia and George hugs.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley."

"It's Molly, dear. And think nothing of it."

Thank Merlin for Alicia, those sunflowers, and the ladybird.

And thank Merlin for those love hearts.

Or who knows?

I could still be crying.

* * *

I'm surrounded.

The love envelops me.

I'm flying.

I leave the horrid red behind and reach out my hand to my husband--my lifeline.

I'm gaining consciousness.

It's surreal.

I reach the pale, perfect red that everyone else in my family is occupying

I look at the red around me.

I look at my family and Arthur.

I smile.

And I continue with life.


	9. Purple: Of Accomplishments, Sky, and Sea

A/N: THE LAST CHAPTER! -dies- Well, folks, it sure was fun…Thanks for those who stuck with it, but most of all to Pinky Green, the amazing person who set up this challenge, and who allowed me to go crazy with it! Much love to you, Pinky!

Disclaimer: Does it LOOK like I own anything?

* * *

**Indigo/Purple**

**Mountain**

**Moon**

**Sea/Ocean**

* * *

Victoire is my first grandchild.

Her marriage to Teddy makes him one of my last grandchildren.

My very last grandchild is Colin, George's youngest. (He ended up having five children—it runs in the family.)

My first great-grandchild is Arthur William—Victoire and Teddy's eldest. I find it ironic that that's the opposite of Bill's name. He doted on that baby like _no one_ else!

My last great-grandchild, technically, is Colin's seventh daughter. Shawna Marie is her name.

But the last great-grandchild while I was still living is Katy Emily. She was James'—Harry and Ginny's first son—middle child. She was the spitting image of me.

Why, you ask, am I telling you this?

Because.

Because after climbing the mountain that is life, and getting by whilst loosing two brothers, a son, most of your money, and your innocence (very young in life, I will add) and fighting two wars—well, it catches up to a woman.

Either she goes mad and turns her hair purple, or she does something else…

She can't help but show off.

* * *

Look outside at the moon tonight. Look at the velvety purple sky.

The man on the moon? See his happy, smiling face? Always cheerful?

That's Arthur.

My brave, strong, sweet, dear, happy husband. He died three days before I did.

Those three days were worse than the time I found out Fabian and Gideon were dead. Worse than when I saw Fred's lifeless body. They were the worst in my life.

See the stars surrounding it? Those are my children, and then my grandchildren, and my great-grandchildren, and my great-great grandchildren. I won't go on—you get the picture.

And the dark side of the moon?

That, I am ashamed to say, is me.

I was always pessimistic in life. I always wished secretly for _more_. I was Arthur's alter ego. I was seen as much as he. I was never as brave, as loving, or as _perfect_.

But even though you can't see me in the indigo sky, even though I'm hidden, I'm there. Even though I'm in Arthur's shadow, I'm content. I, too, am brave, loving, and, in my own twisted way, I'm perfect.

* * *

Arthur was my first love, and he was my last love.

The day he died, I died to. I was kept alive, though, because loosing two loved ones at once is unbearable. I should know.

And so, when the tide went out in the year 2036, I allowed it to take me with. I wanted to see Arthur again. I was eighty-six.

The ocean, once I was on for the ride, was very, very gentle with me. It carried me along, finally landing me on a boat.

This boat had on it Arthur, Gid, Fabe, Fred, and my parents. Never, ever was I happier. It was better than anything in life could _ever_ have been.

And so, for eternity, I rest, with those who floated away years ago and days ago. It is my dearest wish only to be _remembered_.

* * *

_Molly Prewett Weasley_

_Born October 30, 1950_

_Died June 5__th__, 2036_

_Loving mother, daughter, sister, grandmother, and friend._

_You will be remembered forever. R.I.P. _

_Buried in Purple Glory.

* * *

_


End file.
